Hogwarts reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone
by marauderprongz
Summary: Hogwarts together with some members of the OotP read the 7 HP books. Finally, the truth will be revealed but...wait, how about Harry's secrets and the trio's near death experiences?


_**A/N: Hello, I'm new here and this is my very first fan fiction yay! I've always wanted to write a fanfic about Hogwarts reading the books (concept isn't mine, btw.). But yeah. I hope you all like it. I feel so drained right now; It took me around 10 hours to write this whole thing. Yeah yeah I know, I am a slow worker. Anyway, maybe a few reviews or something will send me back to work asap. Wink wink. Oh and be constructive and nice, please.**_

_**P.S. Harry Potter is JK Rowling's! ^:)^**_

* * *

Harry Potter woke with a start, his scar throbbing with pain. It took all his energy and self control to stop himself from screaming. _What is up with that dream._ He looked around and saw his best friend, Ron beside his bed. "Sorry I woke you up. You looked like you were having a bad dream. Were you?" Ron inquired with a concerned look on his face. "It's nothing," Harry mumbled.

"Well, anyway, that's just one reason why I woke you up, another is Umbridge just announced that everyone must be in the Great Hall for breakfast and that classes are suspended."

"What? Why? What does she want now?" "Dunno, but I don't know if I should be happy about it I mean, sure, I like it that classes are suspended but when it concerns the toad, there's probably a catch to it." "Yeah," Harry said absent-mindedly. His mind was still occupied with the dream he just had, although it wasn't the first time he had that dream. He had always dreamed that he was on this empty corridor and that he's trying to go through this mysterious door on the end. But this is the only time he had actually reached the door and that it even opened for him. If only Ron hadn't woken him up, he would have found out what's inside. He couldn't help but feel angry.

"I'm all set. You better get ready now. I'll wait for you at the common room. Hermione's probably waiting for us there, too."

Harry suddenly felt guilty for being mad at Ron but he couldn't shake the feeling off him. He looked away from Ron and told him to go ahead with Hermione and don't wait for him anymore. Ron didn't leave at first, then after several, awkward seconds, Harry heard the door close. He turned around and saw that Ron already left. _Why do I always feel this way._ He thought to himself. These days, he always gets angry even for shallow reasons or for no reason at all and he hates himself for being like that. _It must have something to do with all the stress you're going through right now. _Harry reassured himself. _I'm sure Ron and Hermione understands._

Harry lay down on his bed for about a few more minutes before he stood up and hurriedly prepared himself for breakfast. He didn't see anyone on his way to the Great Hall. _Everyone's probably in there already, _he thought. He was right. And the moment he walked into the place, everyone's heads turned his way. He looked up at the teacher's table and saw Umbridge with an ugly smile that tells him something bad is about to happen. Surprisingly, the Minister of Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge, is there, too. Along with Percy Weasley who's receiving a lot of dirty looks from the other Weasleys in the room.

"Mr. Potter, you're late." Umbridge said in an annoyingly, high-pitched voice "Well, take a seat now, I was just telling the students what's going to happen today." Harry walked towards the Gryffindor table with all eyes on him. He felt angry once again but pushed the feeling down. He had to remain calm. Otherwise, Umbridge will just have more things against him.

He took a seat in front of Ron beside Ginny, who's sitting in front of Hermione, who's sitting beside Ron. Harry sent the three of them questioning looks, but they just shook their heads and turned their attention to Umbridge. Reluctantly, Harry followed and turned to look at Umbridge, too, who gave him a look of hatred before speaking. "As I was saying," she started. "I gathered all of you here today, so that we can read about the life of one of the students here in Hogwarts so that we may prove how much of a liar he is!" At that moment, whispers broke out among the students. "I am, of course, talking about Mr. Harry Potter" There were sounds of protests heard all over the Great Hall, mostly from the Gryffindor table and from the members of the DA. Some were annoyed, grumbling something about having no interest in Saint Potter's life. Most were curious and had no objections to what Umbridge just announced. Harry, however, didn't say anything, didn't even move. He just sat still on his seat staring at Umbridge with big eyes, surprisingly, not full of anger. For a moment, his emerald green eyes, fixed on Umbridge, had a pleading look on them. "But professor," Hermione voiced out for Harry "you can't do that. We aren't sure if what we're going to read are accurate depictions of Harry's life and even if it is, that's invading his privacy!"

"For your information, Ms. Granger, these books that we're going to read aren't just narrations of some random person who claims that he knows a lot about Mr. Potter. These books are made using a special spell and, in fact, came from Mr. Potter's thoughts himself. That means everything in these books are a hundred percent true. And as for his privacy, I think the majority of the wizarding world will agree that it is just fair for us to know the truth behind Mr. Potter's malicious lies."

At this moment, Harry, more than anything felt angry. Startling the students surrounding him, he shouted "Fine. If that's what you want. I'll let you do this because the wizarding world has to know that VOLDEMORT - IS - BACK!"

A lot of students flinched at the mention of Voldemort but Umbridge just stared intently at Harry with a look of pure hatred in her face. In a sickly, sweet voice, she said, "You're lying again, Mr. Potter. But with these books, I am telling you. You're going down. I suggest you enjoy your freedom while you still have it." She looked around the Great Hall, picked the first out of the seven books in front of her and said. "Very well, let's start reading."

Other than anger, Harry felt very anxious. Reading about these books will reveal the things he had never told anyone, not even Ron and Hermione. He wondered if the books will contain not just events that had happened but also things that had gone through his mind. He also wondered if the books will mention anything about his life before Hogwarts. He was trying to convince himself that these kind of information are irrelevant and will probably not appear in the books when suddenly the doors of the Great Hall opened. "Ah, glad you could make it," said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes. Harry, along with everyone in the Great Hall turned to see who had just arrived. Despite, the anger and anxiety that Harry was feeling, he couldn't help but smile upon seeing the newcomers: the Weasleys (Arthur, Molly, Bill and Charlie), Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Mad Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and last but definitely not the least, a big, black dog who looks like the grim. "I invited these people because they are the ones closest to Harry and I believe they have the right to be part of this event." Dumbledore announced. "Sit wherever you want, " He said kindly. The Weasley family and the dog sat at the Gryffindor Table while, Remus, Tonks, Moody and Kingsley sat at the teacher's table. _Maybe this reading isn't a bad idea after all. Through these books, people will believe that Voldemort really is back plus Sirius will be proven innocent. _Harry was playing with Snuffles, the dog while the Weasleys were having conversation and doing some catching up when...

"Hem hem, can I start reading now?" Umbridge interrupted. Harry, the Weasleys and the other students stopped talking at once and after giving all the newcomers a look of disgust, Umbridge started reading. **"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone"**

**The Boy Who Lived **

**Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense. **

"Boring," the Weasley twins said in unison while the two of them faked a yawn.

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning overgarden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. **

"There isn't anything wrong with the Potters!" The great hall minus some people (Umbridge, Fudge, Snape and the Slytherins) chorused. Snape wanted to say the same thing. He knows that the Dursleys are pertaining to Lily more than they are pertaining to James and Harry. _But there is something wrong with the Potters_. _They are all arrogant, that's what._

**Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.**

"That isn't even a word," grumbled Hermione.

**The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbors would say if the Potters arrived in the street. The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that. When Mr. and Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work, and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.**

"Despicable," the adults in the room cried.

"I don't even want to think what Mom would do to us if we become like that," Ron muttered.

"**Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house. He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar — a cat reading a map. **

"Was that you, professor?" Many of the students in the Hall inquired, looking at their Transfiguration teacher.

"We'll probably find out if we keep reading" answered McGonagall coolly.

**For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen — then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of? It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive — no, **_**looking **_**at the sign; cats couldn't read maps **_**or **_**signs. **

"Unless you're an animagus," Hermione pointed out.

"We know that Hermione," Ron said, earning himself a glare.

**Mr. Dursley gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.**

**"**Are those wizards?" Susan Bones asked.

"Probably." Hannah Abbot answered.

"Then, that must be the day..." Susan muttered looking down.

**Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt — these people were obviously collecting for something . . . yes, that would be it. The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. **_**He **_**didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open-mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead.**

"What's the matter with them?" some ignorant purebloods in the room asked.

"Seeing owls out and about aren't normal for muggles - even at night time. They usually just see owls in pictures, in zoos or in their natural habitats." Charity Burbage kindly supplied.

**Most of them had never seen an owl even at nighttime. Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. **

"Something tells me these Dursleys aren't very nice people," Seamus said.

"Caught up, haven't you?" snapped Ron rudely. He doesn't like it when people are being mean to his best mate and Seamus is just one of those stupid people who wouldn't believe Harry.

**He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road **

"No way!" Harry said startling the people around. It wasn't just the first time he said something throughout the reading, he had also said it in a rather loud voice.

**to buy himself a bun from the bakery.**

"Oh" Harry said. "Oh okay. It makes sense." He looked around and saw people staring at him either in an amused way or in a judging way. And Harry, being the pessimistic teenage boy that he is, quickly assumed that he's being judged. "S-sorry," he mumbled.

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch were whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying. "The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard —" "— yes, their son, Harry —"**

More people have caught up and realized that this was the day - the day after Voldemort had killed Harry's parents and given him his scar.

**Mr. Dursley stopped dead. **

"I wish" Harry muttered causing the people who have heard to look at him with concern.

**Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road, hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialing his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his mustache, thinking . . . no, he was being stupid.**

"So he did realize. Too bad, he forgot." Harry said in a blank voice. The people who knew Harry well looked at each other - all thinking of the same thing. _Harry isn't usually rude and insulting. Maybe, his relatives really gave him a hard time for him to be like this. _

**Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew **_**was **_**called Harry. He'd never even seen the boy. **

"He didn't even know his name! What is wrong with him? The whole wizarding world knows his name when he was just one!" cried GInny and Colin at the same time.

"Don't worry Harry, the presidents of your fanclub's got your back." George said. Sniggers broke out across the room while Ginny and Colin blushed.

**It might have been Harvey. Or Harold. There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her — if **_**he'd **_**had a sister like that . . . **

"There isn't anything wrong with Lily Evans!" the adults in the room said in unison and this time, Snape proudly joined the chorus.

**but all the same, those people in cloaks . . . He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door. "Sorry," he grunted, **

"Didn't know he knew that word." Harry commented earning himself odd looks, once again.

**as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!" And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. **

"Ah that's probably me," chortled Flitwick. "Sorry" he added after receiving a glare from McGonagall.

"I'm surprised you were able to wrap your arms around him, sir" Harry said.

"Why, I was quite surprised, too." Flitwick said with a laugh.

**Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. **

"That must have been a hard situation for him, pity, pity," mused Fred.

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw —and it didn't improve his mood — was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. **

"We're pretty sure that's you now, professor," Ernie MacMillan said.

"**Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look.**

"Now we're a hundred percent sure that's McGonagall!" announced Fred earning himself a stern look as well while the student population of Hogwarts sniggered.

**Was this normal cat behavior? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!"). **

Hermione rolled her eyes at this.

**Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted," **

"Hah I knew that was my Dad!" Tonks said, her hair turning to a shade of pink brighter than it already was.

**said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early — it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight."**

**Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters . . .**

"Ten points to Mr. Dursley for putting all that together and let's see, ten points from Mr. Dursley because I don't like him." George said in a perfect imitation of Snape causing sniggers to break out across the room and his Potions professor glaring at him.

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. **

"**Er — Petunia, dear — you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" **

**As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister. **

Snape have now turned his glare to the book.

"**No," she said sharply. "Why?" **

"**Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls . . . shooting stars . . . and there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today . . ."**

"_**So**_**?" snapped Mrs. Dursley. **

"**Well, I just thought . . . maybe . . . it was something to do with . . . you know . . . **_**her **_**crowd." **

"Her crowd? Seriously, HER CROWD?!" Molly raged causing the students near her to cower.

**Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name "Potter." He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son — he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?" **

"**I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly.**

"**What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?"**

"**Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me."**

"I like Harry." Ginny mused causing the people to look at her with raised eyebrows. "I-I mean the name, of course!" Ginny blushed.

"Just the name, huh?" The twins said causing Ginny to glare at them. "Uh oh we don't want a mad Ginny" George said.

Immediately, the twin's faces transformed from suggestive to innocent. The students sitting near them laughed at their antics.

"**Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree."**

**He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did . . . if it got out that they were related to a pair of — well, he didn't think he could bear it.**

A lot of people furrowed their eyebrows at this.

**The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters **_**were **_**involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind. . . . He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on — he yawned and turned over — it couldn't affect **_**them. **_**. . . **

"Wish he was right." Harry said softly that only his best friends were able to hear. Ron and Hermione looked at each other, both of them trying to come up with a way to comfort their best friend. But none of them knew how and for that they felt useless.

**How very wrong he was. Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. **

"Wow," little Denis Creevey said in awe.

**A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. **

The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs cheered for their beloved headmaster.

**Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.**

Both the teachers and the students laughed at this even Dumbledore.

**He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. **

"Woah", "Cool", "I want one!" were heard among students.

**He clicked it again — the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer,**

"It's actually called a Deluminator," Dumbledore interjected.

**until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it.**

"**Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman **("Hmph") **who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.**

"**How did you know it was me?" she asked.**

"**My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."**

"**You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.**

"**All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

**Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.**

"**Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no — even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls . . . shooting stars. . . . Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent — I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense."**

"**You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years."**

"Wow"

"**I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumors."**

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Almost everyone in the room jumped and turned to look at Mad-Eye Moody who didn't seem to mind nor see all the irritated looks being sent at him.

**She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really **_**has **_**gone, Dumbledore?"**

"**It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?"**

"**A **_**what**_**?"**

"**A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."**

"**No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. **

"**As I say, even if You-Know-Who **_**has **_**gone —"**

"**My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense — for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: **_**Voldemort.**_**" **

"Fear of the name only increases fear of the thing itself," Hermione said wisely.

"Very well said, Ms. Granger." Dumbledore praised causing Hermione to blush.

**Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice.**

"**It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."**

"**I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know- oh, all right, **_**Voldemort, **_**was frightened of."**

"**You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."**

"Only because you're too noble to use them" said the Hogwarts teachers in unison minus Umbridge, of course.

"**Only because you're too — well — **_**noble **_**to use them."**

"**It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

"Too much information, professor."

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the **_**rumors **_**that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?"**

**It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever "everyone" was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer.**

"**What they're **_**saying,**_**" she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumor is that Lily and James Potter are — are — that they're — **_**dead.**_**"**

Harry's vision had suddenly become blurry and not wanting anyone to notice that, bowed his head. He felt Ginny hold his hand. He looked at her and she gave him a warm, comforting smile which made Harry feel better. Harry looked around and noticed that a lot of students were staring at him - they probably wanted to see how _the _Harry Potter will react to these kind of things. He remembered during his fourth year when Rita Skeeter had written an article about him in which she wrote that Harry still cries a lot over his dead parents. Maybe, these people staring at him now expects him to cry just as what Rita Skeeter had written.

"Let us please bow our heads and have a moment of silence for Lily and James Potter." Dumbledore said. Grateful and relieved, Harry bowed his head once again but this time with the rest of the students, teachers and guests. Then, he let a couple of teardrops fall from his eyes and just before everyone's heads are raised, Harry have already dried his eyes and made it look like nothing happened.

"You may continue reading now, Dolores." Dumbledore said.

**Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James . . . I can't believe it . . . I didn't want to believe it . . . Oh, Albus . . ."**

**Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know . . . I know . . ." he said heavily.**

**Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potters' son, Harry. But — he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke — and that's why he's gone."**

**Dumbledore nodded glumly.**

"**It's — it's **_**true**_**?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done . . . all the people he's killed . . . he couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding . . . of all the things to stop him . . . but how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"**

"I think we all want to know that," commented Ron.

"**We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

**Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though, because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"**

"**Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me **_**why **_**you're here, of all places?"**

"**I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."**

"**You don't mean — you **_**can't **_**mean the people who live **_**here**_**?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore — you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son — I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"**

"Oh Dumbledore, you could have left him with any wizarding family that are kind enough and loving enough! I'm sure no one's going to refuse to that. Even us -even with nine of us in the family, I wouldn't mind one more son. " Mrs. Weasley said. At this, Harry stood up from his seat, approached Mrs. Weasley and gave her a tight hug.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Weasley." Harry said before going back to where he was seating.

"That's very nice of you, Molly, but there really is no better place for Harry to stay than with his relatives," Dumbledore responded sadly.

"I personally think any place is better," Harry said in a soft whisper which didn't go unheard by Hermione.

"**It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."**

"A LETTER? Seriously, a letter? You think a letter is enough, you think it will secure Harry the best life? I expected you to care more from him!" this came, surprisingly, from Hermione Granger, now standing up and looking at the Headmaster. Dumbledore didn't say anything but just looked down. This didn't improve Hermione's mood.

"Hermione, wha-? It's okay, I swear." Harry said trying to calm her down.

"No, Harry, it's not okay! Because you deserved better, you know it!" Tears started to fall down Hermione's cheek as she sat back down. "S-sorry, I just, I feel like I had to defend you or something. I'm sorry if I over reacted, I'm so-"

"Shh, it's okay Hermione. You don't need to do anything. Being a good and loyal friend to me is enough. You said I deserved better? That's probably the reason why I became friends with you and Ron. Being friends with you - it's like getting the family I've always wanted. And that's wonderful. So stop crying now, Hermione."

"Oh Harry! Thank you and sorry again. I won't cry anymore." Hermione promised and after giving Harry a long hug, motioned for Umbridge to continue.

"Good, glad to see you're done with your little attention-seeking skit," Umbridge simpered. Hermione had to hold back Ron or he would have cursed the toad already. After giving the trio a sick smile, she started reading once again.

"**A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous — a legend — I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future — there will be books written about Harry — every child in our world will know his name!"**

"**Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something**

**he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?"**

**Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

"**Hagrid's bringing him."**

"**You think it — **_**wise **_**— to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

"I would trust Hagrid with my life." said Harry.

"**I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

"**I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — what was that?"**

**A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.**

At this, the black dog, Snuffles barked and started wagging his tail.

**If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so **_**wild **_**— long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

"Hagrid," the trio sighed.

"**Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"**

"**Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I've got him, sir."**

Snuffles barked again.

"**No problems, were there?"**

"**No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.**

"Awwww" the girls in the room cooed causing Harry to blush.

"You really were such an adorable baby, Mr. Potter" McGonagall mused causing Harry to blush even more.

"**Is that where — ?" whispered Professor McGonagall.**

"**Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."**

"**Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"**

"**Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground.**

"Cool!"

**Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."**

**Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.**

"**Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid**

**let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

"**Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "you'll wake the Muggles!"**

"**S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it — Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"**

"**Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

"DON'T TELL ME YOU LEFT HIM ON A DOORSTEP?" Molly shrieked at Dumbledore. "What if someone had taken him? What if he had picked up a serious case of colds?"

Dumbledore had the decency to look apologetic.

"**Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."**

"**Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I'd best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."**

**Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.**

"**I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

**Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.**

"**Good luck, Harry," he murmured. **

**He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone. A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley. . . . He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"**

A collective sigh was heard throughout the Great Hall. "That's it. That's the end of a chapter." Umbridge said with a disappointed tone in her voice. _What a waste of time. _She thought. _Didn't even get to prove how much of a liar that Potter is. Maybe the next chapter will mention something about Potter being a liar. _With a mad glint in her eyes, she asked, "Who would like to read next?"

"I will" Percy said pompously.

"Ahh very well Mr. Weatherby. Here."

The book was levitated to Percy who tried his best to ignore the sniggers coming from his brothers. Upon getting hold of the book, he flipped to chapter 2 and started reading.

**"The Vanishing Glass"**


End file.
